


When and Where It All Began

by Coho_Commanche



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2996630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coho_Commanche/pseuds/Coho_Commanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Salazar Slytherin, a name that has lived on through the ages, and not in a good way. Salazar always knew his 'friend' Godric Gryffindor was a bumbling buffoon, but not an utterly brainless bumbling buffoon. He should have seen it coming, he really should have. When an excited Godric Gryffindor came charging through his door, Salazar made a mistake, he let the man in...while making a sensitive and experimental potion. He should have known better, he should have known that a loud and brash man shouldn't be around such delicate things, they say hindsight is 20-20...how right they are. Elita Potter was fed up with the witches and wizards of Britain. First she's a hero, next she's setting a monster on the students of Hogwarts, then a hero again, before becoming a deranged villain, now finally to the Chosen One. How ironic that her name means 'chosen'. Fate she has learned is a complete and utter bitch. Why else would Salazar Slytherin literally come crashing into her life? Why else would the man turn out to be the most possessive bastard on the planet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prophecy

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one had the most votes, I can’t say I am too surprised by this. I will publish the three stories in the order of the amount of votes submitted. All of the stories in the poll will be posted eventually. I am not going to use archaic words as that would be evil and awful, plus I’m just lazy. The way the words combine might seem off and some of the words themselves as well, but it won’t be Shakespeare. I might or might not bring the other Founders through time as well, I haven’t decided on that yet, but I probably won’t unless the majority wants this. Let me know what you think. The battle in the Department of Mysteries never happened because Elita is smarter than to go charging ahead and not exhaust every avenue of contacting Sirius first. She was supposed to be a Slytherin after all. Taking this into consideration, she saw through Kreature’s claim of Sirius not being there, i.e., the room the House Elf was in. So yes, Sirius is alive. 
> 
> Also, there will be OCs in the story, so beware. I’m making a new prophecy because in my mind the cannon prophecy was fulfilled the same night Voldemort initiated it. There was no timeframe and we’ll just say that he marked Elita slightly before he was ‘vanquished’. The prophecy orb would have turned completely black after being fulfilled. Voldemort was not happy when his minions informed him of this.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine!

 **Chapter One:** The Prophecy

Elita bounced on the balls of her heels in excitement. Luckily she was able to spend most of her summer with Sirius rather than the Dursleys. She looked around her room, actually it was Regulus’s old room, and grinned widely. On the walls were pictures of her friends, both with and without her. Several were waving wildly, mostly those with Fred and George in them. Ron just looked awkward in most pictures. Poor Neville looked like he was frozen and Luna just posed in strange ways. Hermione and the others looked pretty normal for the most part.

Grabbing her shrunken trunk, thank Merlin for the wards around Grimmauld Place, she stuffed it into her jacket pocket and dashed down the stairs. Halfway down a large black, grim-like dog joined her, barking madly. Laughing, Elita jumped off the last few steps, drawing a yelp of surprise from Sirius as she did so.

Sirius waited until she was on carpet before he tackled her, licking her face, hands, and neck. Elita was shrieking in delight, trying to fend off Sirius with her hands.

“Well it’s nice to see some people are so energetic in the morning.” The voice of Mrs. Weasley drifted down from above the duo, causing them to freeze before looking up sheepishly. Sirius backed away from his goddaughter and transformed into a human before running a hand through his shaggy black hair, while the other he used to help pull Elita up off the carpet.

Elita snickered at Sirius as he acted like a teenager caught by his mom doing something he shouldn’t be doing. “Well, now that we are all human, breakfast is ready. I’m just going to wake the others if you two haven’t done so already.” Sirius and Elita looked at each other and ginned mischievously. They scurried to the kitchen, wanting to get food before the fun started.

The sound of screaming filled the dreary house and the two troublemakers smirked over their food at each other. She and Sirius needed to do something for fun other than dueling that is. She felt so bad for Sirius, knowing how it felt to be a prisoner in what should be your home, yet is the exact opposite. At times she drowned in guilt, the what-ifs plaguing her every thought. Had she been just a bit faster, she might have been able to catch Pettigrew.

Anger boiled in her blood, a fury that came from not herself, but Voldemort. She gripped the table, distantly aware of Sirius’s warm hand on her shoulder and his worried voice. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ever since the end of last year, Voldemort had been in a rotten mood when she failed to fall for his trap. He had tried multiple times to possess her, only succeeding once. That was also the last time he tried to possess her. She had given him an overdose of love; you’d have thought he was a cockroach fleeing from light. Right now something had upset him enough that her Occlumency shields, measly as they were, did absolutely nothing to protect her from the brunt of his anger.

“Give me a minute Siri.” Her voice was strained and the wood groaned under her fingers. She took several deep breaths, vaguely aware of Remus clutching her other shoulder and pressing a cold, damp towel to her inflamed and bleeding scar. “He’s seriously pissed off right now.” She slurred, not sounding very coherent.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only five minutes at most, the pain began to slowly dwindle and the anger faded to a slow simmer that allowed her to slam her shields back into place. “Sorry about that guys. He’s being a real prick today apparently.” There were snorts of disbelief at that.

“Right, a prick.” Remus didn’t sound pleased by her choice of words at all.

“Hey, it’s not my fault his minions have fucked up.” There was the sound of someone choking, but she kept her eyes closed and head tilted back. Laughter followed soon after.

“Language young lady!” A small smile crept onto her face.

“I ain’t no lady.” The twins began cracking up, remembering the line from her first year when Lavender Brown tried to get her into a pink and frilly dress. She had said that a lady would wear it; Elita had screamed that she wasn’t a lady and ran for it.

“Hmmph.”

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

“Ronald! Hurry up young man!” The sound of several thuds drew sympathetic winces as a body and trunk crashed down the stairs. At least he wasn’t almost decapitated like Ginny narrowly avoided last year.

“Ron!” And that would be Hermione panicking over Ron. Those two seriously needed a wakeup call.

“S’ok, m’fine.” His slurred words did little to reassure anyone present. The twins thought it was hilarious of course. Poor Sirius had been hounded by the twins when they discovered who the Marauders really were. The same thing happened to Remus until Moony made a surprise appearance and scared them so bad they fainted.

Speaking of Sirius, he had been restrained by Shacklebolt and Tonks, seeing as he had been throwing a fit when it suddenly sunk in that his goddaughter was going back to Hogwarts. He yelled through the gag, why they didn’t silence him she wasn’t sure, but it was amusing.

“To the apparating room everyone.” The children marched dutifully through the house and to the apparation point that only members of the Order could activate. Remus immediately latched onto Elita, much to her embarrassment and other’s amusement. Hermione was snagged by Fred, Ginny was grabbed by George, Ron was ensnared by his still fussing mother, and poor Neville was stuck with Mad Eye Moody. Sirius was wailing in her ear, trying to pry Remus off so that he couldn’t take his only source of entertainment away from him. Dammit Tonks!

“Remus, get us out of here now!” She had to shout and kicked Sirius away so that Remus could apparate and not drag her still wanted godfather with him.

“Noooo!” The last she saw of Sirius was him wailing and lunging at her. She was going to kill Tonks for accidently setting him loose.

Elita and Remus reappeared with a loud pop. The sounds and scents of the platform slammed into both, causing Remus to growl and Elita to hiss. Both looked at each other before laughing.

The platform was swarming with students and parents. A scowl made its way onto her face when those who spotted her quickly scooted away from her like she had dragon pox or something. Damn Voldemort, damn Fudge, damn Sheeple, and damn Rita Skeeter. Her scowl didn’t help matters and she turned to see Remus giving her a sad look. Mood worsening by the second, she quickly gave Remus a hug and made a beeline for the train before she lost her temper and did something she probably wouldn’t regret, but would see her in a large amount of trouble.

Stalking to the first empty compartment she could find near the Prefect cabin, knowing that the Malfoys would be reluctant to start anything so close to the other Prefects. Not three seconds after she had settled on one of the seats closest to the window, Luna walked in. She was wearing her radish earrings and butterbeer cork necklace. “I see the Nargles are particularly bothersome today.” Elita smiled at Luna.

“Then I’ll leave it to you to drive them off.” Luna beamed happily, knowing that Elita wasn’t simply humoring her or making fun of her like most people would. Before she could ask how Elita’s summer had been, the cabin door flew open and four people poured in.

“Hey mate, thought we lost you.” Ron was smiling and his blue eyes sparkled merrily. His Prefect badge was crooked and Hermione’s pinned perfectly. Neville and Ginny ginned and nodded at her and sat on either side of Luna. Ginny immediately turned to Luna to discuss something and Neville pulled out a book on plants. Ron and Hermione bickered over who would sit next to her, much to her exasperated amusement. They really didn’t care if they sat by her, they just wanted to argue, and by argue she meant flirt. Really it was painful the way they remained so oblivious. Elita had overestimated Hermione’s ability to read people.

Elita felt a strange surge in her magic again, stronger than any of the others before it. This had occurred several times over the summer, but no one could figure out why. It was like her magic was trying to reach out and latch onto something. The one time Snape had been nearby when it surged, he’d acted like one of the basilisk’s victims. He had then proceeded to walk out of the room as quickly as he could, clutching his arm the whole time. He refused to tell anyone what that was all about.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

Draco Malfoy glared at his sister. He loved her, he really did, but by Merlin she drove him insane half the time. It was even worse this year with her Fay heritage deciding to make an appearance. He wasn’t sure what had triggered it, perhaps one too many Crucios did it? He sighed, rubbing his left arm as it suddenly tingled. He twitched when the sensation grew stronger, a gentle warmth settling in it. He frowned. How peculiar, he had never heard of the Dark Mark acting like this. The sensation continued to plague him as he tried to focus on the conversation, but it was no use. He noticed Theodore Nott was also looking twitchy. Actually, anyone with a Dark Mark in their cabin was acting oddly.

That was it! He couldn’t take it anymore; it felt like a feather was tickling his skin, it was driving him mad. He stood up, smoothing his Acromantula silk robes as he did so. They shimmered in the light, showing off the high quality of the fabric. The conversation stopped and he haughtily raised his nose in the air, not that he noticed that fact. He frowned suddenly.

“Where is Zabini?” He was distracted from his question when the tingling stopped like it had never been there to begin with. How odd.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

Blaise Zabini stood outside of one of the first compartments on the train. He tugged on his tie nervously, asking himself if this was the smartest or stupidest thing he was about to do. He straightened his robes and shoulders, plastering a confident smirk on his face. He could do this.

He knocked and the quiet murmuring on the other side of the door stopped, leaving only the sound of his breathing and the train. He didn’t like it. The door slid open cautiously and he was greeted by the sight of the Golden Trio plus three other Gryffindors, his smile grew more strained. “Potter, may I have a word with you, alone?”

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

Elita Potter stared at the compartment door in shock, hardly able to believe that someone was actually knocking for once. Sure Susan Bones came around towards the end of the trip most of the time, but they weren’t even halfway there. Ron, being the closest to the door and the most impulsive, slid it open, fully prepared to punch a certain Ferret, only to pull up short in confusion when he saw a tall student he didn’t recognize. He was a Slytherin, of that there was no doubt, but the fact that a lone Slytherin, one that he didn’t know, was actually knocking threw him for a loop.

Elita cocked her head and narrowed her eyes, not breaking eye contact with Blaise Zabini. The two of them were neutral towards each other, both tolerating the other’s presence, but not actively seeking each other out.

“Potter, may I have a word with you, alone?” Elita looked at him more closely. His light mocha colored skin seemed a little pale and he was fidgeting, something she was willing to bet money on that he wasn’t aware of. His dark eyes flitted around the cabin as though searching for some unseen threat.

“If you think Eli is going anywhere with a slimy Slytherin, you can—.” Hermione slapped her hand over Ron’s mouth when Blaise turned a truly frightening glare on him. It seemed Snape had been giving lessons on how to sneer and glare. Elita stared a bit longer, letting Zabini grow more uncomfortable before making up her mind.

The others in the cabin looked at Blaise and her, she knew that they would happily defend her if Zabini even looked like he was contemplating hurting her. “All right.” She knew that there was no way in hell Zabini would willingly discuss whatever it was he wanted to in front of her friends. It was just the way Slytherins were; never give a potential enemy any ammunition. She was the same way. The others immediately began protesting.

“Eli are you out of your mind!” Thanks Ginny, real nice. She thought sarcastically. Hermione began lecturing her on why it was a bad idea to go alone with someone they didn’t know, while Ron yelled about nasty, slimy Slytherins. Luna just continued to read the Quibbler upside down.

Neville simply stared at her like he was trying to read her mind before switching his piercing gaze onto Zabini. He then proceeded to shock everyone.

“Hurt her and die Zabini.” Everyone looked at Neville in disbelief, even Neville looked startled and he was the one who threatened the Slytherin. Elita snorted and stood, glad that Hedwig wasn’t on the train to give her own opinion. She swore up and down that her owl was way too smart to be an animal.

“Lead the way Zabini. No, scratch that. Tell me where to go and I’ll be there in ten minutes. I take it you don’t want anyone else to find out if we can avoid it?” Blaise nodded in surprise, glad that she was willing to act like a Slytherin and make this so much easier for the both of them.

“I’ll be in the luggage car.” He turned and strode away from the door, letting the Weasel shut the it.

Blaise couldn’t believe that Potter was actually agreeing to talk to him alone. Wasn’t she supposed to hate Slytherins? Sure she never really reacted when he invaded her study table in the library, but this was different. Perhaps he had judged her too soon. A small grain of hope grew larger; he just might be able to get her to agree to help him.

He made his way to the luggage car, studiously ignoring the looks he was receiving from a group of Hufflepuffs he encountered on his way. He found the luggage car and stood in the shadows, casting a warming charm on himself as he waited for Potter.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

Elita waited the promised ten minutes before casually making her way through the train towards the luggage car, gritting her teeth as people moved away from her. It hurt that they did so, that they never even gave her a chance. This was what she hated about the world she was now part of. She hated how common sense was practically extinct. She was admittedly curious as to what Zabini could possibly want from her.

She slipped into the luggage car after checking to make sure that no one saw her, spotting Zabini in the shadows as she closed and locked the door. She threw a privacy charm up to make him more comfortable, grinning when he relaxed a bit as it took effect.

“I have to admit that I’m shocked you would want to talk to me, but I also have to admit that I’m a bit pleased that you aren’t acting like I’m a boggart.” Zabini smirked at her, relaxing further when she admitted to being pleased he was trying to talk to her.

“Last year you made a defense club of sorts. I was hoping that you could perhaps tutor me in DADA.” He laughed when her jaw dropped and acid green eyes widened. Clearly she wasn’t expecting that.

“I, uh…what type of DADA are we talking?” That only confused Blaise. There was more than one type of DADA?

“What are the types?” He crossed his arms and waited for her to answer.

“Well, I like to think of DADA in three different categories: school DADA, Auror DADA, and Mad Eye DADA. I think you can figure out which one is the hardest. I taught mostly the school type, but I did throw in some stuff from the other two categories as well. Be warned though, the third one will probably make you hate me, but it is also more likely to keep you alive and your opponents very dead.” Zabini stared at her blankly for several seconds before snickering.

“I’ll take the third one.” She looked him dead in the eyes, more serious than he had ever seen her.

“I will teach you if you promise me that you will not betray me and remain neutral at the very least. Know that what I teach you will be borderline, if not outright illegal. Can you handle that? If not, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened.” This was a risky thing for her to do, but she needed a partner to practice with during the year, and if Zabini agreed, then that was one thing on her list that she could cross off.

“Fine by me, I had planned to remain neutral or become a spy for Dumbledore anyways.” She nodded. “We’ll need to use your wand. Mine is keyed to my magic and will refuse to work for anyone but myself. Yes, I realize that requires a dark ritual.” Blaise looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time, but in a good way. He pulled out his wand and rolled it between his thumb and index finger.

“Dobby!” Blaise jumped at her shout, glaring at the innocent look she shot at him. He was anticipating the arrival of a House Elf, just not the sight of it.

“Hey, you used to belong to the Malfoy family.” He pointed a finger accusingly at the wide-eyed Dobby.

“Yes, he did until I tricked the Ferret’s father into freeing him.” Blaise looked aghast.

“You, the leader of the Golden Trio, the Princess of Gryffindor managed to trick one of the hardest to fool Slytherins into releasing his own House Elf?” His tone of disbelief irritated her a bit.

“I may be a Gryffindor, but I’m more Slytherin than you know.” She refused to say more on the matter and turned to Dobby. “Hello Dobby, sorry for ignoring you. Can you be the binder in a magical oath between Zabini and I please?” She motioned for Blaise to hand Dobby his wand when Dobby nodded his head violently. She and Zabini grabbed each other’s hand and the wand touched both.

“I, Blaise Octavian Zabini swear on my life and magic that I will not betray Elita…” She blushed as he looked at her expectantly. Merlin this was going to be so embarrassing.

“Prongslette.” He stared at her in disbelief. “My dad won a bet he made with my mom and he picked the name.” Snorting in amusement, he continued. Her face was doing a wonderful impression of a ripe tomato at the moment.

“Prongslette Potter to her enemies or join them without her permission, so mote it be.”

“I, Elita Pronglette Potter, swear on my life and magic that I will teach Blaise Octavian Zabini and give him permission to break the vow in cases of life and death or permanent mutilation/torture, so mote it be.” Her magic surged out in a golden stream, wrapping around their joined hands and tangling with his purple magic. The ribbons glowed brightly before sinking into their skin, signifying the oath being closed.

“I wasn’t expecting your part of the vow.” Zabini looked oddly vulnerable and she realized that he didn’t really have anyone he could solidly rely on and that she was willing to give him more than one way out of the vow.

“I am the Gryffindor Princess as you so kindly put it.” He laughed at her wry response. “Now I just have to deal with the Ferret when he makes his traditional visit. Hopefully he’ll leave Barbie behind.” Zabini laughed harder at that.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

“So, what did he want?” Elita looked at the expectant faces staring at her and smiled slyly. She put a finger up to her lips.

“Shh, it’s a secret.” Hermione growled and Ron spluttered. “Oh, you’re going to be late for the Prefect meeting in exactly one minute, thirty seconds.” She made her way to her seat and sat back down, laughing when Hermione shrieked and ran out the door, Ron close behind, cursing her the whole time.

“So…” Ginny trailed off, waiting hopefully.

“Sorry Gin, my lips are magically sealed.” Her eyes widened and Neville choked on his water he was drinking. Luna merely smiled serenely.

“I wonder if they’ll have pudding?” Elita laughed. Only Luna.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

“Hello Scarface.” Elita looked up and smirked lazily at Draco Malfoy, ignoring his bitch of a sister, knowing that she would hate it.

“Not interested, go away and take the bitch with you, oops, I meant witch. Oh, and go fuck yourself.” She winked at Neville and he played along, talking over the shriek of rage from Barbie and the Ferret’s spluttering.

“Yes, do leave, neither of us are interested in either of you.” Draco growled at the implication, struggling to think of an appropriate insult to get back at them with.

“Oh go jump off the train.” With that, Ginny slammed the door in the siblings’ faces and Elita put a complex locking charm on it. She and Ron grinned at each other when Anika Malfoy started screaming in rage. Draco yelled dire warnings if they didn’t open the door, but Hermione put up a silencing charm and blissful silence lasted for about three seconds before laughter shattered it.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

Elita stroked the bony neck and head of one of the Thestrals pulling their carriage, waiting for the others to catch up. It nuzzled her side affectionately in response to the attention being lavished on it. She had been waiting for five minutes, not quite sure how she had managed to get to the carriage so fast and why people were gaping at her. She had simply ran ahead, it’s not like she was inhumanly fast…right? She pushed the nagging feeling of dread out of her mind, not wanting to add more stress to her life just yet.

“Eli!” Elita turned and grinned at her friends, unaware of how she seemed to glow slightly in the light of the moon for a second or two.

“Hey guys, I was worried you managed to get lost.” The others glared at her accusingly. “Err, did I do something wrong?” Her puzzled look told the others that she had not meant to leave them behind in the dust, but really, didn’t she know how fast she was? Evidently not if her look of confusion was anything to go by.

“Never mind Eli, let’s just get to the Welcoming Feast.”

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

A sudden silence swept through the Great Hall as Trelawney shuffled in, eyes bulging like normal. She looked dazed and confused, more so than normal. It vaguely reminded Elita of Luna on a bad day. The dessert suddenly tasted like ashes in her mouth.

“Sybill, what a pleasant surprise. Is there something you need my dear?” People looked at Dumbledore like he had just announced that he was repainting the Great Hall to match his atrocious robes. McGonagall was gripping her knife so hard her knuckles were white and she appeared to be contemplating whether or not she should throw it at the Divination professor.

Sybill looked even more confused before she settled her gaze on Elita, who began to squirm in discomfort. There was a reason why she never took Divination. “I had a sudden urge to come here…” She trailed off, looking quite stupid just standing there. People shifted and murmured to each other.

LINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINELINE

“What’s the old bat doing down here?” Elita glanced at Ron, rolling her eyes at him.

“Hell if I know.” Hermione glared at Ron and Elita in disapproval. Elita suddenly stiffened when Trelawney claimed she had an urge to go to the Great Hall. She paled dramatically and flinched when Trelawney focused her massive eyes on her. People followed her gaze and began staring at Elita as well. It felt wrong, Elita realized. Trelawney’s eyes seemed to pierce her like lasers, digging deep and examining her very soul. It was as if something ancient and powerful was looking at her, something that could crush her with no effort at all.

People suddenly began screaming as Trelawney began to spasm and her eyes rolled back into her head. A raspy voice that sounded nothing like hers filled the Great Hall and the strangest words began pouring out of her mouth. The words appeared in the air, reminding Elita far too strongly of Tom Riddle writing his name in the Chamber of Secrets.

_One thousand years in the past_   
_To find the one thing that will last_   
_Time spins forward with a fight_   
_Now he must do what is right_   
_Mark of Light’s power shall lead the way_   
_She must be of the Fay_   
_To find the key to it all_   
_Or fail and the world will fall_   
_A darkness found_   
_A darkness bound_   
_The child of his enemy’s legacy_   
_They must unite to fulfill destiny_   
_If lost the world will fall into darkness_   
_For it is ageless._

“Bloody hell!”

“Ron! Language!” Ron cowered away from Hermione when she went to hit him on the head with a book. As if their shouting were a starting gun, noise erupted.


	2. Well Hell

Chapter Two: Well Hell

“Bloody hell!”

“Ron! Language!” Ron cowered away from Hermione when she went to hit him on the head with a book. As if their shouting were a starting gun, noise erupted.

Trelawney collapsed as noise exploded. People were gaping and looking horrified, confused, and terrified. Elita herself was close to hyperventilating. Her breathing was sharp and rapid, her heart pounding and skin clammy. She knew she was probably as pale as one of the sheets Madam Pomphrey used in the Hospital Wing.

Screaming shattered the air and caused most people to jump out of their seats in panic. Elita was in a fighting position the next second; her wand out and a spell chain ready to be sent at the threat. She and many others quickly realized that the screaming was coming from the younger years and a few of the upper years as they pointed at Trelawney. Irritation filled Elita. The idiots were screaming over the old bat on the floor, not some sort of Death Eater or monster. Scowling, though still pale and shaky, she cautiously slid back into her seat.

“Silence!” Dumbledore’s magnified voice boomed through the Great Hall, rattling glass and threatening to break eardrums. The word was extended for several seconds. The instant silence was disconcerting and Elita looked up at the pale form of Dumbledore in a slight daze.

Horror suddenly filled Elita. Please, please don’t let the prophecy be about her. _Please, please_. She mentally begged all the gods and goddesses she could think of, though they didn’t really exist. A part of the prophecy occurred to her and she relaxed slightly. Fay, the girl it spoke of evidently has to be one of the Fay. Thank Merlin she was one hundred percent witch. Her eyes traveled across the Great Hall. There were four girls who she knew for sure were of the Fay: Luna, Daphne, Astoria, and Draco’s little sister Anika. Great, three Slytherins. Urgh, she really hoped that Luna was the one the prophecy referred to. Oh, right there was also Fay Dunbar in Gryffindor, perhaps that is who the prophecy referred to? She shook her head and decided to come back to the train of thought later.

 _Mark of Light’s power, what could that mean?_ She tuned out Dumbledore as he instructed the Prefects to take the students back to their common rooms. She shuffled away with Hermione and Ron, mulling over that single line the whole way, ignoring other’s attempts at engaging her in conversation. Ron and Hermione knew better than to interrupt her when she had, as they liked to call it, her thinking face on.

 _Mark of light, hmm, mark of light, no Light, light with a capital L, so there is great importance on the word itself…A name! A Name…a name for what though?_ Her thoughts spun as she stepped through the portrait and mechanically got ready for bed. She knew Hermione was thinking just as hard.

 _That still doesn’t explain the word ‘mark’ though…no, wait…a mark_ of _Light. So a name that is also a mark of some sort…a symbol then, it_ has _to be. So a symbol of something that can represent light that is_ also _a name. Apollo could apply but the gods aren’t real so that won’t work. The sun though, it might have something to do with the sun…sol…no, Sol,_ Sowilō _. Sol is a word that is capitalized. Wait…fuck! The rune for Sol is shaped kind of like a lightning bolt…fuck my life._

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Her scream of frustration was met with shouts of surprise and a body falling out of bed. She sheepishly shrunk back from the glares she was receiving, laughing nervously. Hermione looked at her in confusion.

“What doesn’t make any sense?” Elita motioned for her to come to her bed. Hermione did so, and Elita closed the curtains and silenced them so no one could listen in on their conversation. The other girls narrowed their eyes and crept forward to listen in and were disappointed to learn that Elita had anticipated this and had taken steps to prevent them from eavesdropping.

“So, what was that all about?” Elita fiddled with her quilt.

“I uh, I think that the line ‘Mark of Light’s power shall lead the way’ is referring to the rune Sol.” Hermione looked at Elita aghast.

“That makes so much sense!” Elita glared at her.

“No! No it doesn’t make any sense at all. If it is referring to the rune Sol, then that means it could be referring to me. It could mean the side effects of the curse scar become the power. The problem with that is the fact that I am definitely not one of the Fay like the prophecy stated Hermione. It has to mean something else, or someone else at the very least.” Hermione looked startled, then panicked. Her hands fluttered and her hair seemed to become even more bushy than it normally was.

“Knowing your luck it’s referring to you, but you are right about not being one of the Fay.” A horrible, evil thought seeped through Elita’s mind. Fay, the word Fay was capitalized, meaning one of three things. A) The word Fay literally meant fairy, B) the word Fay was referring to Morgana Le Fay, or C) if B was true, then it meant that A could also true. No one knew for sure if Morgana Le Fay really was one of the Fay or if it was just a horrible coincidence. Argh!

“Perhaps it was referring to either being a fairy or a descendant of Morgana Le Fay, if not her directly?” Hermione pondered this while Elita’s mind focused on another part of the prophecy. ‘The child of his enemy’s legacy.’

“Hey Hermione, that line about an enemy’s legacy, could it be referring to Merlin and Morgana?” Hermione scrunched up her nose.

“It could, but the prophecy seemed to indicate that the man himself is Dark.” Elita slumped back into her pillows. She suddenly shot upright.

“The first three lines! ‘One thousand years in the past; To find the one thing that will last; Time spins forward with a fight’ they seem to indicate time travel. It also puts the date around the time of Camelot…fuck, and the Founders. Shit! If it’s the Founders then it could be referring to Slytherin and Gryffindor. But line two seems off to me for some reason.” They shared a grim look before Hermione slapped her behind the head and scolded her for her language. She rubbed the back of her head, glowering at Hermione.

“Elita, if that’s true, then it really could be referring to you. You did pull Gryffindor’s sword out of the Sorting Hat after all. Although…perhaps it simply means the bloodline heir, which we don’t know if you qualify as?” Elita groaned and put her head in her hands.

“Let’s just move on to the rest of the prophecy. You said that the prophecy made the man sound like he is Dark, I take it you are referring to the fourth line?” Hermione nodded, her brown hair bouncing slightly and chocolate colored eyes shining.

“Yes, ‘Now he must do what is right’ seems to indicate that the man himself is not seen in a good light. If so, it could be referring to Salazar, seeing as he was alive around one thousand years ago. It would rule out Merlin however.” Elita huffed.

“If it really is Slytherin, then it could be Gryffindor or an enemy that is not known to us.” Hermione perked up at that thought. Elita summoned a piece of parchment and a fountain pen. She hated using quills. She transfigured an extra pillow into a lapboard to write on.

“Right, so far we think that the mark of Light is referring to the rune Sol. We have a hunch that the man might be Salazar Slytherin, but that’s still up for more debate.” The sound of writing briefly filled the air.

“Don’t forget that the first three lines indicate time travel, or at least it seems to be the most likely. The first line also places the time line around the time of Camelot and the Founders. This then leads us to the fourth and sixth lines. The fourth seems to indicate Slytherin and the sixth points towards Morgana Le Fay or the Fay themselves.” Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Right, so then we come to the seventh line which refers to a key of some sort. Hmm…put a question mark next to that one for now.” Elita dutifully did so, pondering what sort of key was being referred to.

“Wait, perhaps it’s not a literal key, it could be referring to a clue that is the key to figuring something out.” Hermione furrowed her brow in thought before nodding slowly, looking blankly at the red curtain.

“Yes it could.” She said this somewhat hesitantly. “The next line seems pretty self-explanatory so no need to examine it too closely.” Elita snickered as she wrote the conclusion for this line. Hermione regarded her through narrowed eyes suspiciously. Elita gave her an innocent look.

“Hmm, how about the following line? There isn’t a lot to go on.” Hermione grimaced and pinched her nose.

“Skip lines nine and ten, but put question marks next to them.” Elita dutifully did so with a grin. “Line eleven we think is referring to the legacy Gryffindor. It could also refer to the legacy of an unknown enemy. It’s most likely Gryffindor and Slytherin if Slytherin is the man the prophecy is indicating though.”

“I think line twelve has to do with marriage or some sort of agreement that binds the two from the prophecy together. As if they weren’t bound enough through being the two in the prophecy, now an outside factor is going to ‘unite’ them.” Elita drawled as she wrote, glancing up at Hermione who was picking at the quilt.

“Finally we have the unlucky numbered line, which makes me think of a repeat of the Dark Ages or something.” Elita muttered while Hermione distractedly nodded her head in agreement. “Last but not least we have the final line. Any thoughts on this one Mione?”

At the sound of her nickname, Hermione looked up and nibbled her bottom lip. “Something ageless…something immortal?” Elita let out a groan.

“As much as I hate to say it, that might be it, but perhaps it’s not really ageless/immortal so much as the idea of it is ageless?” Hermione closed her eyes and mumbled quietly. “What things are supposedly ageless? Glory and love come to mind, so do some curses though.” Hermione opened her eyes to regard Elita.

“I think that you are on the right track with that idea. Hmm, perhaps it’s something that is a constant then, like gravity.” Elita looked at Hermione in disbelief, amusement bubbling in her at the thought of wizards struggling to understand physics.

“You really think it might be physics? I’m now sure that the speed of light and whatnot are going to save me from Voldemort.” Her sarcasm was not appreciated if Hermione’s glower was anything to go by.

Elita put the finishing touches on the list and blew on it to help it dry faster. Hermione snatched it from her and Elita smirked at the look of outrage on Hermione’s face. Guess she didn’t appreciate her little comments.

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(1) _One thousand years in the past_ (A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…you were born.)  
(2) _To find the one thing that will last_ (?) (Seems sketchy to me.)  
(3) _Time spins forward with a fight_ (Wow, I wonder what this could mean?)

— First three lines seem to indicate time travel.  
— Date on time line roughly thought to coincide with time of Camelot and the Founders.  
— Possibly supported by lines four and six.  
— Line two still not sure about.

(4) _Now he must do what is right_ (He had better or I’ll kick his ass.)

—Possibly referring to Salazar Slytherin.  
—Possible support for line one (most likely line one) and potentially lines two and three.

(5) _Mark of Light’s power shall lead the way_ (Can I veto this?)

—First four words most likely indicate the rune Sol based off of capitalization of the word light and preceded by the words ‘mark of’.  
—Could be referring to Elita due to the shape of the Sol rune.  
—If Elita then it could be referring to side effects of curse scar as the power.

(6) _She must be one of the Fay_ (Suckers!)

—Could be referring to Morgana Le Fay.  
—Could be referring to the Fay as in fairies.  
—Possible candidates: Luna Lovegood (Ravenclaw, 5th year), Fay Dunbar (Gryffindor, 6th year), Daphne Greengrass (Slytherin, 6th year), Astoria Greengrass (Slytherin, 3rd year), and Anika Malfoy (Slytherin, 5th year).

(7) _To find the key to it all_ (?) (Ohh, is it the key to getting Snape off my case?)

—Possibly referring to a clue that is the key to solving or ‘unlocking’ something.

(8) _Or fail and the world will fall_ (Well that sounds fun.)

—Means we’re all fucked. ☺

(9) _A darkness found_ (?) (Ron chewing with his mouth closed for once? Voldemort in a dress? Ack! Brain bleach, I need brain bleach!)  
(10) _A darkness bound_ (?) (I wish it were Pettigrew in chains so I could torture the fucker.)

—Lines nine and ten go together, one leading to the other.  
—Not sure on the meaning.

(11) _The child of his enemy’s legacy_ (Fuck you too Slytherin!)

—Possibly referring to Salazar Slytherin and Gryffindor or an unknown enemy.

(12) _They must unite to fulfill destiny_ (Wow, how corny can this get? I pity whoever it is, especially if the guy is Slytherin )

—Marriage possibly or some other form of union like a pact/vow/agreement or friendship.

(13) _If lost the world will fall into darkness_ (Lord of the Rings anyone?)

—Assuming that the darkness means either Dark magic, another Dark Ages, or some other dooms day scenario.

(14) _For it is ageless_. (WTF? Where can I get some?)

—Could be pointing towards an idea of something rather than an object or being.

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Elita Potter stretched with a large yawn. Ah, nothing like a good night’s sleep after a long train ride and feast, not to mention a freaking prophecy and subsequent analyzing of said prophecy. She really didn’t appreciate the looks she was getting from the student body. If only Voldemort had been spotted last year, but no, he just loved making her life completely miserable.

Pulling back the red drape around her bed, she grinned at the sight of a sleepy Hermione struggling to brush her hair.

“Why do you even bother? I gave up years ago when I realized no one could tell the difference between my hair being brushed or not.” Hermione looked over her shoulder at her best friend, smirking at the bird’s nest that claimed to be Elita’s hair.

“At least I try.” She cursed as the brush snagged on another snarl and threw her hands up in the air in defeat. Elita laughed, waking up the other girls in the process. They let their displeasure be known, not that Hermione or Elita actually cared.

“So, breakfast?” Hermione replied by grabbing her bag, not that she needed it, as there were no classes today. Oh who was she kidding? Hermione was probably going to raid the library after breakfast. Elita on the other hand had to decide where to tutor Zabini. She was leaning towards the Chamber of Secrets, seeing as it was well warded and away from prying ears and eyes.

First they had to get Ron up before anything else. She looked over at Hermione as they were descending the stairs. “I’ll go deal with Ron.” Hermione tried and failed to give her a stern look, knowing exactly what she planned to do. Elita made her way to the door she needed and stepped inside before closing it.

“Ron, if you don’t get up and dressed in the next five minutes, all the food will be gone!” Elita yelled this into the Sixth year boys’ dorm room, laughing at the screams and shouts of surprise and several thumps indicating that bodies fell out of bed in fright. She opened the door and dashed down the stairs.

“Potter!” Elita laughed and ran past Hermione who was shaking her head. She ignored the stunned looks she was getting as she practically dove out of the common room and ran out of sight.

“Where is she!” Seamus, Ron, Dean, and Neville all stood at the base of the stairs, clothes thrown on haphazardly and fires of rage in their eyes. The others in the common room all laughed at the sight.

“You just missed her.” Colin Creevey said through his laughter, snapping a quick picture before hightailing it out of there.

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Elita smirked over her breakfast at the boys as they came storming into the Great Hall. She gave them a jaunty little wave that had Ron cursing her and Seamus shaking his fist at her. Dean simply gave her the evil eye and went to go sit by Ginny. Neville got to her though. He gave her a look of disappointment and she adverted her eyes, flushing.

“Sorry Neville.” Neville nodded and pat her on the head, earing a sound of outrage from his friend.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Elita set down her goblet and turned to face Neville as he slid a piece of toast aside to put eggs on his plate.

“No real plans, why?” Neville shrugged.

“So I know where to go to get you if disaster strikes. Then again, the disaster will probably happen wherever you are. Chaos loves you and stalks you.” Elita sneered at him, see Ron, the Slytherins were good for something.

“I hope you get eaten by one of your precious plants.” She hissed at him as she stood from the table, discreetly levitating a slip of paper into Zabini’s robe pocket. Neville was laughing along with Ron while Hermione scolded him.

Up at the Staff table, Snape narrowed his eyes. He could have sworn that something was off with Potter. He clutched his arm in agony as he felt her magic flare out violently, luckily for her, she was almost to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when her magic decided to practically explode out of her.

Elita gasped and staggered into a wall as her vision went blurry and her head spun dizzily. Her magic was way more aggressive in its search for whatever it was looking for now. She closed her eyes and gasped for air. Dear Merlin this was getting ridiculous. She yelped when her magic tried to latch onto something, only to lose the connection. It felt ancient and powerful. She felt Zabini grab her shoulder to help support her. His magic was unique and bound to hers by the vow, so it was easy to recognize.

“Bathroom ahead, get us there.” She trusted him to help guide her, eyes opening slightly to squint at the bathroom door they were approaching. “Find the sink with the snake on the faucet.” Zabini huffed and she slowly pulled away, making her way to a working sink once he found the one with the snake on it. She splashed cool water on her face, grateful that Myrtle was not present.

“So, you going to tell me what that was all about and why we are in a girl’s bathroom?” Elita blinked water out of her eyes, and smirked at the Slytherin.

“I present to you the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, well one of them at any rate.” Blaise did a very un-Slytherin thing; he gaped and he knew his eyes were blown wide. He completely forgot about the first part of his question, just as Elita was counting on.

“Wha—?” He didn’t finish the question, his brain short-circuiting when he saw Potter move towards him while hissing some sort of nonsense. He realized seconds later as a hole began to form that it was a Parseltongue password. Giddiness gripped him. He was going to see the Chamber of Secrets! He was trembling with excitement, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wow, if you’re acting like this when confronted with this entrance, I can’t wait to see how you’ll react to seeing the second entrance and the Chamber itself my friend.” Blaise barely heard her as he watched steps begin to form, winding their way down into the darkness.

“I’m going to see the Chamber of Secrets.” Elita laughed at his dazed statement.

“Yes, yes you are, now come one snake boy.” She gently grabbed his elbow and guided him to the steps, encouraging him to follow her. The top began to close and Elita lit her wand, nudging Zabini to do the same.

Blaise followed Potter, staring at the walls and steps in awe, he was still having trouble believing that he was actually going to be tutored in the Chamber of Secrets of all places. He had never even considered this as a potential place to train. Never had he been so glad that he ignored his pride and went to Potter for help.

“Careful where you step, there was a cave-in awhile back, it’s cleaned up now, but the ground is uneven.” Blaise split his attention between watching the ground and staring wide eyed around him, not daring to blink less he miss something.

They hadn’t been walking for long when they stopped in front of a truly amazing door. He shivered slightly when the emerald eyes of the metal snakes seemed to be staring at him. He heard more hissing from Potter and sucked in a large breath as the large, circular door swung open slowly. He let Potter grab his elbow again as they stepped through the opening and with one arm, Potter swept it outwards and to the side slightly.

“Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets Mr. Zabini.” Blaise nearly fainted in delight, his heart pounding and body trembling. He tugged his arm free and stumbled around the large chamber, touching the snake statues in awe.

“I thought it looked better with the basilisk carcass, but it was too valuable to just leave down here.” That got his attention.

“There really was a basilisk?” He looked at her in slight horror. Carcass, she had said carcass, meaning it was dead, but how did it die?

“How did it die?” Elita looked at Zabini, taking in the intense look he was aiming at her, daring her to deny him the truth.

“I killed it by stabbing it through the roof of its mouth with Gryffindor’s sword. Poetic justice at its best, though the bugger nearly killed my when a fang broke off in my arm.” Blaise’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed with a solid sounding thump. It was hilarious really. His poor brain and consciousness had decided to take a short vacation.

“Idiot.” With that, she revived him by blasting a jet of water onto his face. He shot upright, sputtering in indignant shock.

“I’m so glad I’m on your side if you killed a thousand year old basilisk alone at the age of twelve with only a sword, then survived its bite somehow.” Elita blushed and looked away in discomfort. She had never been good at receiving praise.

“Fawkes and the Sorting Hat helped me, hell, if it weren’t for the Headmaster’s phoenix, I would be dead from the venom. Hurt almost as bad a one of Voldemort’s Crucios.” Blaise gaped at her in shock. Elita was very pleased to note that Zabini didn’t so much as flinch when she said Voldemort.

“Right, still glad to be on your side.” Cue blush.

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Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff watched their colleague storm off in a fury caused by none other than Godric Gryffindor. Poor Salazar, Godric just didn’t know when to stop and when he crossed a line.

Salazar Slytherin fumed, scaring students as he stormed past. His black robes flared out behind him, making him look like a fallen angel about to slaughter you while laughing merrily all the while. His silver eyes glowed with power and a faint black and emerald green light rose from his body. He slammed the door to his lab closed, kicking it for good measure. He took several deep breaths, determined not to unleash his magic around his precious potions.

Slightly calmer now, he turned to look at his desk that was covered with parchment. He was in the process of inventing a new potion, one that would reverse one’s age. His colleagues all thought him to be a fool, but he would show them, he would show everyone. Loneliness crept over him. He rubbed his temples, pushing aside his emotions for the next several hours.

Salazar looked over his notes, memorizing what he would need to go collect from the forest. Hmm, the moonflower would be blooming in mid September during the full moon, so the potion brewing would have to be delayed. By his calculation, the potion would take roughly three to four weeks to brew. That would put it around Samhain. He wondered how the magic of Samhain might affect the potion. He hoped that it finished before the thirty-first so that it wouldn’t be a problem at all.

His magic flared suddenly, causing him to grit his teeth. He stiffened when he thought it managed to actually find what it was looking for, but the sensation was gone the next second, leaving him confused and angry. What was going on?


	3. Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story will probably be a bit slower than my others to help build it up. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine!
> 
> “words” is ancient language (not true for flashbacks, will be normal text if ancient)  
> ~words~ is Parseltongue  
> ‘words’ is mental conversation

Chapter Three: Suspicions

Elita glared at Snape as he sneered nastily at her. The damn dungeon bat was up to something; she just knew it. At least Slughorn was nice, creepy, but nice. She refused to meet Snape’s eyes, not wanting him to sneak a peak at her thoughts. She turned her attention to the gruesome pictures covering the walls. Seriously, was the guy trying to bring the Aurors down on him? He appeared to be competing for the dubious honor to be labeled the poster child…man, whatever, for Dark wizards.

“Potter!” Elita jumped in her seat, eliciting snickers from the Slytherin side of the room. Why Dumbledore insisted on pairing the Gryffindors and Slytherins together for almost all of their classes, she had no idea. Although, now that they were in NEWTS classes, there was a hodgepodge of different houses. There were hardly any Hufflepuffs in DADA or Potions, while there was a distinct lack of Slytherins in Herbology. The Ravenclaws ruled majority in each class except for History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. They weren’t very fond of Hagrid, what with his unorthodox teaching methods. No one liked Binns, so it was no surprise very few Ravenclaws continued to attend his class. The Gryffindors were mixed fairly evenly except for Potions and History of Magic. She had no idea what the situation for Divination was for the upper years. Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes were the most balanced between the four houses. Arithmancy was leaning more towards the Slytherins and Ravenclaws, but it was fairly evenly split between the houses.

“Yes Professor?” He narrowed his inky black-brown eyes at her, his greasy hair reflecting the dull light grotesquely.

“Tell me what spells are used to counter an Inferi attack.” She stared at him blankly for a second before answering in a bored tone.

“Any sort of fire spell that can actually burn should be used. You can also potentially use blasting or explosive spells like Confringo, Bombarda, and Reducto. Fire is the only way to permanently deal with an Inferius…unless you can vaporize the corpse or completely destroy it. I believe the one such spell is Disperdere. You could also use a spell combination like Duro followed by Expulso and then possibly Evanesco. For an Inferius attack, large fire spells are the safest option…sir.” People stared at her, including Snape. He had a suspicious and calculating glint to his eyes. He also appeared slightly startled and it was then that she realized her mistake. She groaned mentally. Idiot, one of those is considered to be Dark.

“Curious answer Potter. Tell me, where did you learn this.” She refused to meet the accusing and burning gaze of Hermione, one that was boring into the side of her head. She knew that she would have to do some fast-talking to get out of this mess.

“My tutor for this summer, sir.” Snape didn’t say anything to that, knowing that to do so would bring Dumbledore’s wrath down on himself.

“As Potter stated, fire is the most effective way to deal with an Inferi attack.” Elita zoned out, wallowing in relief that Snape hadn’t probed any further.

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“Elita, wait!” Elita continued to run, not slowing down at Ron’s shout. She couldn’t deal with him right now, she was liable to hex him something awful. She needed to be alone; she just had to get away from all the stares and whispers. She regretted answering Snape’s questions more than she should. Once again the students of Hogwarts were proving just how immature they really were. Merlin she was such an idiot.

Elita stopped running when she reached the seventh floor and the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. She began pacing, not thinking of any particular room, just one that she could practice wandless magic in. A large door slowly appeared on the stone wall, towering over her. She slipped inside and grinned at the room she found herself in. Actually, calling it a room would be the worst way to describe what she now found herself in. A calm and well-lit forest stretched out around her, a small pond and brook off to her side. The ground was soft and a vibrant green where there was grass. There was even a realistic sky with fluffy white clouds. Yes, she could get used to this.

She shook herself and sat down on the ground, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. She focused on the warm feeling in her chest, coaxing it to the surface.

A slight gold glow surrounded her and a smile found its way onto her face. She always felt better when she brought her magic close to the surface like she was doing now. She felt at peace for one of the few times in her life, like nothing could go wrong. It was something she craved desperately, something that she knew she would likely never have in her life outside of these precious moments.

She focused on her desire to summon water. Her eyes opened slowly, staring intently at the palm of her right hand as she held it up like it was cupping something. She pulled at her magic, pleading with it to cooperate. Nothing happened. She continued to focus, growing more and more frustrated at her lack of results. She pulled harder and harder on her magic before it suddenly snapped loose, giving her a nasty case of mental whiplash. A sphere of water appeared, hovering over her hand. She felt the drain on her magic immediately. She forced the water to morph into different shapes before freezing it and sending it blasting way from her as deadly shards.

She put both her hands on the ground next and shoved her magic into it. At first she thought that nothing was going to happen when it began to rumble ominously. She pulled back in shock. Had she really just done that? She decided to try something different this time. Rather than sending her magic into the ground with her hands, she lifted one leg and stomped it as hard as she could. The ground began shaking violently and several cracks formed. The drain on her magic was even worse than with the water. Elita sat before she could fall, taking deep breaths.

She held out her hand and sent a blast of magic at a tree, grinning as it burst into flames. She then focused on levitating leaves off of the ground and swirling them around before making them moving targets. Now that her magic was at the surface, it was responding much faster. She banished the leaves before focusing on the pile of pebbles next to her.

She picked one up and set it on the ground, staring at it. She continued to do this for a long time. She had yet to transfigure or conjure wandlessly, but she was determined.

“Come on. Please...” As if waiting for the word ‘please’, the pebble slowly became a grey button. She focused harder and it became black rather than the green she was aiming for. Oh well, at least she finally managed to transfigure something. It only took her roughly five years. She had started right before Hogwarts, but only levitating objects and simple things. After her first Transfiguration lesson, she began trying that as well. Wandless magic took a lot out of a person. She had done a bit as a child, but nothing really major. She knew that her wand was not going to always be available to her, so she spent a good deal of her free time trying to master wandless magic.

She was really good at defensive spells and charms, but not so much the other others. She easily summoned fire and began playing with it, too tired to do much else. There was no need to waste her energy on the stuff she had already mastered. Fire based magic she was close to mastering, so it wasn’t a huge drain like other things were.

Elita panted and sweat dripped from her face as she forced the flames to morph into different shapes. She stood and the fire swirled around her in a complex spell, growing larger and larger until it became a firestorm. She thought it kind of looked like a hurricane-tornado hybrid.

She let the spell go when her legs gave out. She braced herself on her hands, her legs curled under her as she hung her head down. Pushing herself up so that she was sitting, she tipped her head back and cracked it. Damn, she had pushed her magic too far. Time for a shower and change of clothes.

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It took three hours after dinner the following day for the Malfoys to confront her. Personally, she thought that was some sort of record.

Elita growled under her breath as the two Malfoys swaggered up to her. Couldn’t they just leave her alone?

“Hey Potter, how’s it feel to be second best for once?” Elita ignored Anika Malfoy, focusing on her Potions text, trying to study. The female Malfoy made a sound of irritation and grabbed at the book and Elita deftly moved it out of reach.

“Piss off Barbie.” Ron guffawed, drawing the attention of Madam Pince, or the Vulture as most called her. Hermione whacked Ron with a book and Elita winced. Why Hermione thought killing off Ron’s brain cells was a good idea, she didn’t know.

“I’m going to the common room, night guys.” She had no desire to deal with either Slytherin, let alone both at the same time. It had been a hellish first week. First there was the thrice-cursed prophecy. Then as if that wasn’t enough, she just had to go and alienate herself in Snape’s class. Just the day before that everyone was gushing over the female Malfoy being the one the prophecy spoke of once it became publically known that she was Fay. Elita hoped it meant that the bitch would die a horrible death. Today had been more of the same. Even the some of the professors were acting like she was the second coming of Merlin. What were they smoking?

Sure she was glad that for once she wasn’t the one people were fawning over, but it was getting ridiculous. Even Gryffindor was treating Anika Malfoy like she was the answer to all their problems. Everyone but a select few seemed to keep in mind that Anika Malfoy was far more likely to destroy the world than save it through her sheer idiocy. Neville, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and surprisingly Blaise all saw the situation the same: they were all fucked.

The Daily Prophet getting their hands on a copy of the stupid prophecy was the icing on the cake. Now everyone was aware and singing Anika Malfoy’s praises. It burned. Oh it burned something bad. She, Elita Potter saved the school more than once and what did she get? Oh, that’s right, a pat on the back and some points, yippee. Anika Malfoy was nothing more than a spoiled bitch who delighted in tormenting others. She was soaking up the attention like a dry sponge. It was Anika that spread rumors over her years at Hogwarts that Elita Potter was setting up the events to get more fame. She was according to Anika: ‘An attention seeking slut who will sleep with anything to get attention. I’m sure she was behind most of the trouble Hogwarts has faced ever since she became a student’. Things along those lines.

The worst of it was that people believed her. Elita knew Voldemort was taking great pleasure in her misery, the bastard. She retaliated by sending all those gooey emotions that acted like poison to his evil over their link when he sent his taunting glee at her. She really wished that she had fallen for Voldemort’s trap at times if it meant that he would have been exposed that night.

“Hey look, it’s the Slut of Hogwarts.” Elita froze in disbelief. Where those fucking Hufflepuffs that just called her that? Hufflepuffs of all people. Dear Merlin, even the Puffs were after her now.

“Yeah that’s me, the one who is going to make you wish you were never born if you don’t scram.” She snarled at them, her magic flaring sharply, pissed off as well. She should have just stayed silent. Too late now. She hurried off after they ran screaming down the hall.

Elita’s claim that her magic was sentient was a point of contention between her and Hermione. It was like Luna and her animals that no one else could see. Elita was almost positive that Luna was a Seer though, so that could be why she could see things others couldn’t. The idea that the magic inside of a witch or wizard being sentient was always said to be impossible in books. Hermione still believed the books over her friends. Although the time where she asked Hermione if she would jump off the tallest tower of Hogwarts if a book said it was perfectly safe and an excellent idea. Hermione had been silent for several seconds before snapping at her that either there was a very good reason for jumping, or it was a joke. Elita gave up convincing her after that as a lost cause.

At least she would be able to take her frustrations out on Blaise during practice.

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Blaise eyed Potter warily as she gave a brief demonstration of what she wanted him to do. He shuffled to the side when a flash of light suddenly shot at him and he cursed. He knew that Potter was in a bad mood, and he didn’t blame her, but he would rather she didn’t use him as an outlet for said anger and frustration

“Duck! Roll! Dodge!” Blaise panted as he tried to follow Elita Potter’s instructions.

“Jump!” Blaise jumped, his heart hammering and sweat dripping off his nose. When they had first started, she had curled her upper lip at the sight of his ‘prissy Slytherin’ clothes. He had felt vaguely offended, then worried when she grinned evilly.

*Flashback*

_“Are you really going to wear your prissy Slytherin clothes?” Blaise whirled to look at her, glaring in offence. The glare dropped off of his face when her curled lip turned into an evil smile._

_“Yes?” He had meant for it to be a decisive statement, but it came out as a question in the face of her sudden glee._

_“Are you sure you want to wear that? Actually, for this lesson you’ll practice fighting in your school uniform. Next time you’ll wear something else.” He didn’t feel any better about that, especially when Potter slipped off her robe and revealed her outfit._

_As the robe slid off of her, the glamor that he hadn’t noticed also went with it. She sure as hell wasn’t wearing the school uniform. Rather, she was wearing a clingy top and slightly loose shorts that he thought were way too short. Those were Muggle clothes all the way and any hot-blooded male would be driven to deadly distraction just looking at them._

_“I’ll transfigure you something similar next time.” Her grin was shark-like and he gulped. Shit, he was so fucked. He barely had time to dive out of the way of a jet of light. “I’ll teach out how to make even the most mundane spells like a Lumos or levitation charm deadly.” He dropped to the stone floor and rolled, she cackled insanely. It only made it harder when she did that. He blocked the next chain of spells while cursing at her in his head._

_“I will make it seem like you are facing the most dangerous of dark wizards and witches.” He leaped over a jet of purple light, but failed to see the other spell right behind it that was slightly higher. His shin was tagged and a purple mark glowed there. He stopped, which proved to be fatal. A green light smashed into his chest and he gaped in disbelief._

_“Your enemies won’t stop to let you gape Zabini! You were hit by a bone breaking curse and an Avada Kedavra, in case it failed to compute, you’re dead.” He clenched his hand around his wand and grit his teeth. He hadn’t even been able to cast a spell at her, too busy dodging or blocking. Something suddenly occurred to him._

_“Show me, show me how to survive, how to kill then Potter.” A slow grin stretched her lips and her eyes sparkled in excitement._

_“Now you’re getting it. It only took killing you for it to sink in, congratulations. Call me Elita or Eli.” He smirked at her, a standard Slytherin response._

_“Then call me Blaise…Elita.” He would never feel that comfortable calling her by her first name, much to her irritation._

*Flashback End*

“Argh!” He fell in a heap as a red light, a yellow light, and a black light slammed into him. He had been hit by the red one after it smashed through his shield from its sheer power, only to swerve into the sickly yellow, and then the black as he tried to drop below it. He flopped to the floor, moaning as Elita laughed at him.

“Oh, that was one of your worst so far Blaise!” Her shout echoed around the cavernous chamber, as did her delighted laughter.

“So, what was I hit with?” He stared up at the stone ceiling, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the unknown substance clinging to it. At least she wasn’t using the actual spells in the case of the ones that cause fatal or serious bodily or mental harm. She simply put much more power into those fancy lights of hers to make them seem like real spells and be able to break through his shields in most cases. She claimed to have discovered that neat little fact when dueling a good friend of hers. She told him that they were reluctant to shoot deadly spells at one another, so she came up with the idea of using colored lights and to overpower them.

“Hmm, well the first one was a blood boiling curse, the second was an organ liquefying curse, and the last was a rotting curse. You should memorize the color, seeing as I’m keeping the simulated spells the same color as the real deal.” He lifted his head to stare at her in disbelief.

“Golden Girl my arse. I thought you were supposed to be the Gryffindor Princess?” He whined, pointed a finger at her accusingly. She simply smiled sweetly at him in response.

“Just wait until I start teaching you how to actually cast them. We’ll use rats eventually, just you wait.” She said this with such savage glee and relish that he knew there was more to what she just said.

“Any reason why torturing rats has you so…” He waved his hand in her general direction, and she cocked her head.

Elita regarded Blaise for several long moments before sighing. “Let’s just say that I had a very bad encounter, several actually, with a certain rat.” The hate and fury in her voice took Blaise aback. Dear Merlin, what had that rat done to her? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, mainly because she looked like she was about to go slaughter people.

“Right, rats plus Elita Potter equals very bad things.” Elita snorted before bursting out in laughter. She was glad that Blaise had managed to make her feel a bit better with his dry statement.

“Now, let me show you how to use these practice dummies.” Blaise transfigured a chair from a loose rock on the floor. She had managed to get ahold of Auror grade practice dummies that were then, as she liked to call it, ‘made into mini-Mad Eyes’. He hadn’t believed her at first, but now…

Elita activated the runes on one of the dummies, and poked her wand at it several times. It glowed a red color and Blaise gave her a questioning look.

“There are several levels that are indicated by color. Green is the easiest as it is meant for beginners and yellow is slightly harder, but can be used for beginners as well. Orange on the other hand is moderate, and red is the hardest. The dummies will also glow to indicate how accurate or deadly a spell is.” She waved her wand at the other dummies, moving them out of the way before continuing.

“The colors black and green mean a spell was cast correctly and would have been fatal on an actual person. Green by itself just means the spell was cast correctly. Red and green indicates that the spell was cast correctly, but it only caused severe, potentially fatal damage. Yellow and green means that while the spell was cast correctly, there was little damage done. It depends on where you hit the target and what spells you are using.” She looked at Blaise who nodded his head to show that he was following her explanation.

“There are runes and enchantments that are designed to absorb the magic from the spell to power the dummies. Dark magic has a nasty tendency to simply destroy the dummies, so we can’t use it. There are special targets meant for such magic, but they are banned.” The way she said the last part slyly made Blaise grin.

“I don’t suppose you have one or two conveniently laying around do you?” Elita pretended to look around to see if they were alone, then put her finger to her lips and winked. He laughed, taking her actions as an affirmation that yes; she did indeed have at least one such target in her possession.

“It’s a good thing that I know Occlumency.” Elita’s eyes widened before she pouted.

“I can’t believe I completely forgot about that. At least I don’t have to worry about our secret lessons being discovered through Legillimency. Enough about that though, I need to show you how to fight.”

She positioned her body in a fighting stance, and held her wand at the ready. Without warning, the dummy began launching spells at her. She blocked several while swerving or jumping out of the way of others. She twirled as she flicked her wand at the dummy, landing a hit that glowed black and green.

Blaise gaped in shock as he watched Elita practically dance her way through the simulated battle. She was graceful, like water flowing. He knew she was good, but he had never really seen her in action before, but this, this was something else entirely. Eagerness filled him; this is what he hoped to eventually to look like while fighting. He couldn’t believe he had ever thought that Elita Potter wasn’t a skilled fighter. Once again he was eternally thankful that he was on her side. He would never believe her again if she said she wasn’t that great at something. He knew she didn’t accept compliments well and that she saw herself as less than she really was.

She looked more than human as she moved and fought. Blaise’s eyes sharpened and focused more on her body. There was a subtle glow from her skin and her movements were far too fluid to be natural. Then there was her speed. At times she was no more than a blur and others where she simply reacted too quickly to be natural.

“She must be of the Fay.” The line from the prophecy whispered through his mind like a little voice on the wind. Blaise would be lying if he said that he didn’t want Potter to be the one the prophecy spoke of. He would rather it be her, an honorable Gryffindor than Malfoy’s little sister. If even half of the rumors he had heard over the years about Potter from her closest friends contained some truth, she would be the one most suited for it, at least at Hogwarts. It was painfully obvious how much she hated her fame and this dislike marked her as someone who was unlikely to abuse it.

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Salazar stiffened as voices drifted around the Chamber of Secrets. They were but mere whispers, ghosts of what was being said. It was the fact that there were voices to begin with that unsettled Salazar.

“…Zabini!” Salazar stiffened, crackling with magic as he spun around, searching for the woman’s voice. He swore that he saw a flash of black hair and poisonous green eyes. He blinked and squinted, slowly approaching the spot where he thought he saw the apparation. There was more incomprehensible gibberish. He cast a translation spell on himself in Parseltongue. It sort of worked.

“…What…make of…prophecy?” He whirled around again, barley catching a glimpse of dark clothes. What was this prophecy that he just heard about? Intrigued, he strained his ears in an effort to hear more.

“…I think it…do with…Slytherin.” He whipped his head around and stared intently at the hazy outline of a woman’s body. He fully turned his body and lunged at the figure, swiping his hand through it when he tried to grab hold. He regretted it as soon as his hand made contact. His soul felt like it was being sucked out, like something was trying to pull him somewhere.

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Elita stretched with a groan, glaring at Blaise when he laughed at her. She ignored him and began flicking her wand and cleaning up the area. She ducked out of the way of a jet of water that shot at her.

“Fuck you Zabini!” She shot a much larger jet of water at the Slytherin, laughing as he cursed and glared at her, too slow to react and subsequently became drenched.

“So, what do you make of the prophecy?” He asked this casually as he flicked his wand at himself, drying his clothes. This caught Elita by surprise and she gaped at him for several seconds before sighing. She might as well give him something to chew on, if only to drive him up the wall. She was slightly surprised it had take him this long to ask her.

“Hermione and I think that it has something to do with Slytherin.” Elita would have said more, but she suddenly felt like she was being used as an anchor or something. With a scream, she stumbled, clutching her stomach and moaning.

“Shit!” Blaise leapt at her, grabbing her shoulders and taking most of her weight when she began to collapse. Elita gasped, tears sliding out of her eyes.

“Fuck, I feel like my body is being used to drag Hogwarts around.” Blaise winced at the description; he didn’t envy her.

“Will you be all right?” She nodded wearily, sighing in relief as the pain began to ebb.  
She was really beginning to hate this year.

“I think we should head back to our dorms.” Blaise gave her a worried once over.

“No, let me walk you to the Gryffindor common room.” He left no room for argument when he slung her arm around his shoulder to help support her. Elita decided she was too tired and in too much pain still to argue, so let him lead her, only commanding the entrance to open when needed.

“Wait, we’ll need these if we don’t want to be caught.” She clumsily pulled out her invisibility cloak and the Marauders’ Map. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” Blaise watched in fascination as the old piece of folded parchment began to unveil itself as something far more grand.

“What is that?” He already knew about Elita’s invisibility cloak. She grinned mischievously at him.

“This is a map that my father and his group of friends made together. There were four Marauders, my father being the leader. His nickname was Prongs.” She handed the map to him and he began to unfold it. She leaned against the wall while he looked over the map.

“Whoa.” He stared wide-eyed at the map as he got his first glimpse of what it could do.

“I know right? It shows where everyone in Hogwarts or within its boundaries. No potion or spell has been able to fool it so far. It ties in directly to the wards of Hogwarts and can even pick up some of Hogsmeade at times. If you point your wand at it and command it to show you a specific person or location, it will display what you told it to find. It will also provide passwords for secret rooms or passageways.” She flipped a page and showed him one of the secret passageways leading to Hogsmeade.

“I want one.” Elita stifled her laughter and grimaced as her body sharply reminded her that it was still in pain.

“Tough, you aren’t getting one.” Blaise scowled at her and she tried to toss the invisibility cloak over the both of them, but failed miserably. Blaise rolled his eyes and swiftly had the invisibility cloak in place.

It was a very tight fit under the cloak. She knew her face was bright red. Luckily for both of them, the shortcuts they took dramatically decreased the amount of time it normally would have taken them to reach the Gryffindor common room. Elita Potter made her way up the stairs, letting Blaise take the cloak and map after getting him to solemnly promise to guard them with his life.

As she stared up at the canopy of her bed, wet hair soaking her pillow, she couldn’t help but wonder what on earth was going on lately. Things seemed to be moving so much faster now that she was back at Hogwarts. Honestly, how much worse was it going to get?

She should have known better than to tempt fate, as she would clearly see the next morning. Damn Voldemort and damn Anika Malfoy.


End file.
